Always With Style
by Pardon the Insanity
Summary: Roxanne heads over to the formerly-evil lair one evening and, after finding Megamind and Minion trying to decide what song to use for the opening of the new museum, learns more about Megamind's musical tastes and lesser known talents.


Sooo... this movie has done a pretty excellent job of eating my muse, and if I had had my way I would have posted something much sooner. I'm sure a lot of people can understand how the whole school thing goes, though, so that's that. Still, I was able to contribute to this entry to the Megamind exchange community on livejournal recently. Since it's my first lengthy attempt at a fic for this fandom, I certainly hope that everybody who takes the time to read will enjoy it! It was a lot of fun to write.

* * *

There was still a part of her, buried though it now was by so many other things, that insisted on pointing out that this was all pretty twisted. As Roxanne navigated her way through the maze of sprawling industrial and manufacturing properties, the majority of them in some sort of disrepair that even the fading sunlight could not quite hide, she had to concede that, at the very least, it was a little strange.

Of course, her driving through an area of town that she probably shouldn't even be near was not really anything new. She hadn't reached her position in the news team from sitting on the sidelines and letting others scope out the interesting stories. In a big market like Metro City, she had been aware from the instant she got her first menial job at the station that, if she was going to get where she wanted to go, she would have to stick her neck out a bit. And so she had, regardless of her mother's exasperation and her father's worry.

What was different on this occasion was that she was not there for a story. She was driving her own blue hatchback Prius through the sketchy streets, making her overly aware of how poorly maintained the roads were in that area; she had found herself sucking in a hissed breath more than once as she hit a deeply carved pothole. At this point, she almost wished that she had come up with some half-baked idea for a report just so that she could have borrowed one of the station's news vans.

Showing up that way, however, did not seem entirely appropriate, and Roxanne was wary of such obvious reminders of her occupation; she didn't want Megamind to think that she was there for any other reason than to spend time with him.

And therein lay the issue that some part of her conscience wished to nag her about.

In the three months that had passed since the battle with Titan, everything had slowly seemed to fall into a routine. She knew that at first, after all the adrenaline and excitement over simply being _alive_ had worn off, she had been a little distant. Her emotions had gone through the wringer over the course of a day, and she had needed a little time to unwind the confusing knot that had been made of them.

It had been a surprise to her that she had been given that time. Roxanne was so used to Megamind barging in at all times, regardless of convenience or even decency on some unfortunate occasions. Instead, one day she had simply found a note from Minion giving her the number of the cell phone Megamind had recently purchased, in case she ever wanted to get in touch.

It had only taken a week and a half after she had received the note before she had found herself sitting on her sofa, the phone in one hand and the number in the other. It had surprised her during that time just how strongly his absence had struck her. Logically, she told herself that she had only known Megamind, the villain, and some trick presented to her as Bernard, but past the logic and the lingering sting of the betrayal, she had to admit that 'Bernard' was just been the side to Megamind that his public persona would not allow. If she could really believe that the two things were irrevocably different, she would have been able to convince herself by then.

So ultimately she had called him, and she had cautiously allowed herself to begin trusting him again. It had actually been surprisingly easy to fall back into the patterns they had adopted when he had been disguised as Bernard, which was probably why she still felt that uncomfortable tickle at the back of her mind sometimes. Psychiatrists, if given the chance, would no doubt have a field day over her. One had even come into the station once to complain to her boss, saying that maintaining her in such a public position when everybody knew the history she had with her new boyfriend would give young teens all sorts of bad impressions about how romance was supposed to go.

Roxanne appreciated that her boss ignored the woman's advice but couldn't particularly find it within herself to disagree. Falling in love with one's kidnapper was the sort of drivel she'd expect to find in one of those romance novels her aunt filled her bookshelves with. She turned the thought over for a moment before laughing; yes, Megamind surely fit the stereotypical model of the tall, dark, and handsome leading man.

Her laughter receded as she pulled up in front of the formerly-evil lair, although her smile still lingered. It was true that he was not what she would have ever anticipated, but none of her relationships in the past had made her as happy as just one afternoon with him could. She couldn't remember ever feeling as though she were so cherished, so important, to another person. The things he would do or say, all oblivious sincerity, steadily tore holes through her cynicism until she'd felt like she had been reduced to no more than a blushing, bumbling teenager again.

It seemed to be something that was readily apparent to everybody around her as well. The last time she had gone to visit her parents, her mother had mentioned that she seemed more relaxed than she had since moving into the city, and had then even said that she should think about bringing her boyfriend the next time she came. Roxanne had been forced to rely on the skills she had honed as a reporter to try to mask her shock at that suggestion; during all those years that he had kidnapped her, her mother had spouted numerous threats, many creative enough that she thought Megamind might even be impressed, about what she would do to him if she ever got close enough.

Her mother was not the only one who had changed their opinion, or at least been open to it letting it change. Having reported there for a number of years, Roxanne had already been convinced of the simplicity and herd mentality of the citizens of Metro City, so she really should not have been surprised at how quickly they embraced Megamind as their new hero. While she knew that it really should be counted as a blessing – where else could he have managed to have his slate wiped clean of _eighty-eight_ life sentences? – she could not help the twinge at irritation she felt at how highly they stacked the responsibilities on him.

Megamind, however, did not seem to mind in the least. He was so enthusiastic about everything he was undertaking in his new role as the hero, and he often asked for her opinion about plans he was formulating or for ideas about issues he should look into. While he complained that being good prevented him from fully unleashing his creativity, he did admit that the widespread approval and appreciation for the projects he made was rather nice.

And it seemed that, if the music that assaulted her ears as she slipped through the 'secret entrance' was any indication, he was currently in the middle of one of these projects.

Shifting her purse to her other shoulder, Roxanne tried to determine what direction the music was coming from. For such a cavernous space, he always seemed to do an impressive job of completely saturating it with sound. Everything was just loud, the lyrics distorted through walls and pipes, and she sighed while striding forward. A few brainbots came to hover around her, and she smiled gratefully. "Do you know where your daddy is?" she asked one that hovered at her side.

It answered in what must have been the affirmative and took off. Roxanne followed along, around all manner of contraptions and half-finished machines, and up into a part of the lair that was used as the living quarters. At the top of the stairs, she could finally hear the first notes of conversation break through the music.

"— way too cheesy, Minion."

"What do you mean, sir? I think it's just the right kind of epic to work well for a hero."

"Yes, well, I might be a hero now–" At this point, the music was stopped and there was some shuffling, apparently for a different CD. "—but that doesn't mean I want to come across as a sentimental blob of fluff."

"You _are_ pretty sentimental, though, sir."

It was impossible to hold back her laughter at that, and by the time Roxanne turned the corner she was not surprised to find both pairs of eyes on her. "He's right, you know," she said, folding her arms.

"Miss Ritchi! I didn't know you were coming today, or I would have worked on something for dinner!" Minion exclaimed as he came forward.

Roxanne glanced at him and smiled apologetically. "I didn't know that I would have time to come over; I got off work early and thought I would stop by. I guess I should have called."

"Oh no, it's not a problem! I can just go put something together real quick if you don't mind."

"Minion, you know I always love whatever you make."

If a fish could blush, she imagined that he would be doing so. "Well, I'll see what I can do," he said with a toothy grin before disappearing into another part of the lair.

Still smiling herself, Roxanne turned back to face the alien in the building who could blush. He had gotten up from the table they had been hunched over and was now standing a few feet away. She was beginning to realize just how off guard she had caught him as she watched his hands flutter in an attempt to find some casual-looking position. Distantly, she wondered if she could possibly convince him that he could actually use the pockets on his jeans; she had just recently induced him to try more casual clothing for when he wasn't doing anything in public as the hero, and he certainly could have benefitted from the convenient out of the pockets in this instance.

Yet regardless of his flustered appearance, his cheeks still touched that deeper shade of violet, Megamind smiled widely at her. "I didn't think we would be seeing you this week," he said, the excitement that this supposition had been wrong just barely contained.

"Yeah, well…" She gestured vaguely as she came further into the room. "Apparently some of the financers and sponsors for the triathlon had to pull out, and it looks like they won't even be able to hold the event. That would make any of the half a dozen stories they wanted me to do about it kind of pointless."

He was silent as she took a seat at the table before doing so himself. "It's unfortunate that those people couldn't stick to their obligations."

Roxanne shrugged. "It was so early that I hadn't really had time to do much research, and I'm sure my boss will have something lined up for me when I get back tomorrow. Besides," she said, resting her chin against a hand and leaning forward slightly, "this way I get to spend some time with you. You've been so busy lately."

Watching Megamind's expression, she figured that she would probably never get bored at how easy it was to get a reaction from him. He had always been rather easy to goad in all those years when their relationship had been markedly different, but she was only now realizing how little it could take to affect him. She found it rather endearing that such simple words could have such a dramatic effect.

For the moment, he seemed torn between responding to either the former or the latter half of her comment. With a touch of a smile, she picked up one of the CDs from the table and looked at the track list. "What's with all the music, though?"

This seemed to give him some focus. "Well, they are going to open the museum in two weeks, so we were just trying to decide on what song we should use."

"Use?" Roxanne echoed, raising a brow.

"Of course! The soundtrack of the moment," he replied, raising a hand and trailing it through the air.

She groaned. "So just like all those other times you had music playing during your less-than-amazing exploits?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing," he said defensively. "At least I'm not one of those conceited individuals who think they need a whole _theme song_. Even though I won't go that far, I would really wonder about the quality of a performance that didn't have some sort of musical accompaniment."

"But this is for a museum," she stressed. "It's not supposed to be a performance."

"That's just because you people don't want to think outside of the box." That sort of elitist grin was working its way onto his face; he was in full banter mode now. "People already view museums as dull places to go. What better way could I generate interest than by making an energetic atmosphere?"

"Well, just being interesting would probably be enough."

He blew right past this possible jab; Roxanne admitted that its implication was so obviously false that it really didn't warrant any further consideration. "But I want to be interesting with _style_."

"And style requires music," she drawled.

"Naturally."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't completely smother the way her lips wanted to twitch into a smile. "So, selection for the 'soundtrack of the moment' isn't going so well?"

"No." At this Megamind deflated a little, flipping through a few of the CDs and cassettes stacked up next to him. "We had a list of songs to use for villainous occasions, so that was relatively easy. But _this_…"

"A little overwhelming?"

"Do you realize how many millions of songs are out there?" he asked, holding up his hands. "And now there are all sorts of other types of music I need to consider, since I'm the _hero_, and I don't know how I'll—"

Roxanne reached across the table and slipped her hand over his. "How about you let me help? I'm sure you already have something here that you could use."

"It might take some time," he cautioned.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess I'll just have to stay here for a while then."

That seemed to have an instant effect on his mood, and he gently squeezed her hand before pushing a few stacks of music into the center of the table. After a minute they decided to organize everything based on genre; there were some types of music that Megamind had already decided could not be used, so weeding them out first seemed like it would save some time.

Roxanne hadn't quite understood how that was possible at first, considering that the majority of the CDs she rifled through belonged to some branch of the rock family. It wasn't until she almost reached the bottom of one of the piles that she found a CD that she could do nothing but stare blankly at.

"_Bebop_?" she breathed, stuck somewhere between outright shock and a fit of laughter.

By the way Megamind's head snapped up, he had anticipated that CD showing up at some point. Snatching it out of her hands, he tried his best to school his features into something properly haughty. "There is nothing wrong with cultivating an _eec-lectic_ range of musical tastes, Miss Ritchi. Besides," he said, setting the CD on the 'other' stack, "that happens to be one of Minion's purchases. He enjoys some of those older genres."

"Is that a fact?" she murmured wryly. "And it's _eclectic_."

He ignored the comment on his pronunciation. "It _is_ a fact, actually. If you happen to come across anything with Big Band or early jazz, those would be his as well."

"So no classical compilations?" she asked, holding up the next CD.

He considered the album in her hand for a moment before straightening. "No… that would be mine."

"Really?" Roxanne flipped the CD over, genuinely surprised.

"I wasn't being completely full of hot air when I talked about enjoying many different types of music," Megamind said finally. "I could only crash so many of those snotty parties at City Hall without at least some of it rubbing off."

She considered the CD for a moment before popping open the lid and sliding the disk into the player. It clicked into place, humming as it started to spin, and then the first lilting notes drifted into the cavernous space. The combination was strange: the echoing drone of machines in other parts of the shadow-filled lair fighting with the sweeping notes of an orchestra.

"This piece is overplayed," Megamind said suddenly. "I can't count how many of those balls played it. I'm pretty sure there are some other waltzes out there. It's like they think it makes them fancier just for playing the most famous one."

"It is a little cliché now," Roxanne agreed. "But it's kind of fun because everybody knows it."

He snorted lightly. "They might recognize it, but I can guarantee that very few people know what they are doing when they try to put that recognition into some sort of practice on a dance floor."

"Oh, and are you saying that you do?" she asked, her tone just as snide. It was ridiculous that he could be so condescending about something like a _waltz_.

But he certainly was. "That's _exactly_ what I'm saying," he retorted instantly, before pausing. Rising from his seat, he came around to her side of the table. "Although, technically, I suppose I am affirming my own ability while also insulting that of others. Yet, it seems that you are a little skeptical about that."

"Well, I can't exactly imagine that you needed to practice such a skill—" she started, but was cut off by the hand he held out to her. Quirking a brow, she looked up from his hand to his face.

"As I said, things rub off on you if you're around them too much."

Still a little unconvinced, she took his hand. She had also been to enough of those balls – he'd even kidnapped her from a couple of them – to know the moves well enough, and in any case the waltz had very simple footwork. Still, even when she did attend, she did not usually agree to dance, and it struck her as a little strange to be doing so now, in the gutted out remains of a warehouse, with Megamind.

But what was perhaps even stranger, or maybe just surprising, was the fact that he actually was quite decent. Certainly not competition level – which was probably good, since that would have been disconcerting at best – but as he led her around the room it was instantly obvious that his boast had been grounded to some extent in fact.

Roxanne decided to sit on that opinion for the time being. "I still don't know why you actually learned this."

He shrugged faintly. "Once upon a time, I considered going for the debonair villain. Skills like this seemed to be a necessary part of the repertoire."

The mental image almost had her laughing, but she bit it back. "What changed your mind about taking that angle?"

"Are you serious?" Megamind looked at her incredulously. "It was way too stuffy for me! And in any case," he continued, his hand shifting as his eyes darted away, "kidnapping you if I had to act like that seemed a little slimy."

Now she really did laugh. "So all that remains of that idea are some scattered skills?"

"Well, and a monocle," he admitted. "I think that's probably around somewhere."

Roxanne just shook her head, still laughing, as the music wound down. As they came to a stop, Megamind eventually stepped back, brows raised expectantly. Catching the hint, she crossed her arms and cocked a hip in false thoughtfulness. "Alright, I will admit that you knew what you were doing," she said eventually, and she could practically see his ego swell.

"You're also quite good, but of course I already knew that would be the case," he replied with a grin, and she was surprised at how lacking it was in the pride she might have expected. "That's why I wanted to ask you… well, not the only reason I wanted to ask. There are certainly others, as well. The point is that I wanted to see if, once the music and everything is picked out, you would want to join Minion and me during our little celebration when the museum is unveiled."

For a moment, she considered his words. "Dancing in front of all those people?"

He nodded.

"To something that would… 'make an energetic atmosphere'?"

Another nod.

She looked into his enthusiastic eyes for a long moment, the green too vivid for their own good, and sighed dramatically even though she already knew that she would ultimately agree. "So you're telling me that now good presentation requires dancing, too?"

"Definitely," he confirmed. "Although in this instance, I believe your presence would be doing more to provide class than anything."

Her lip twitched upward at that. "Now you're just trying to be smooth."

He smiled back as they took their seats and started to look through the CDs again. "For you, I do my best."


End file.
